Ricochet
by Vintage Writer
Summary: Alice had met him before, just like she had met Hatter all those years ago. Unfortunately it had not dawned on her until after the fact. Hopefully he would understand...or not. WiP.
1. A Trial

**Title:** Ricochet by Vintage Writer

**Fandom:** Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland & Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

**Characters:** Alice, Knave of Hearts, Ensemble

**Summary:** They had met before, just like she had met Hatter all those years ago. Unfortunately it had not dawned on her until after the fact. Hopefully he would understand…she hoped…

**Notes:** If the first chapter seems to be vaguely familiar to readers, do not be alarmed because it is. A majority of it is taken directly from the source material with an infusion of the film. Everything afterwards will be completely original…and I apologize for the length of the first chapter. Secondly I wanted to try something experimental with this, trying to rationalize the AiW cannons in a plausable manner and surpsingly a fic that wasn't alice/tarrant (which was what I initally was going to post up, as a different fic)...other than that, enjoy. I own absolutely nothing, everything belongs to the Disney and Caroll/Dodgeson Estates respectively.

* * *

**Chapter One:** A Trial

Alice had never been in a court of justice before, but she had read about it and was pleased to find that she knew the name of nearly everything there. The King and Queen of Hearts were seated upon their throne along with the two princesses on either side of them.

Looking around from where she stood there were other kings and queens, little birds and beasts as well as a whole pack of cards: the Knave was standing before them in chains, with guards on either side to guard the tall lanky young man. Near the King was the White Rabbit with a trumpet in one hand and a scrolled parchment in another. In the very middle of the court was a table with a large dish of tarts.

The judge of the proceedings was the King of Hearts himself for he wore a traditional wig of a judge. He did not look necessarily comfortable and it did not look well on the king, but that really did not matter to the young Alice as she was becoming slightly impatient (and hungry from the delectable tarts) at how long it was taking for the trial to start.

"Page, read the accusation!" the King of Hearts demanded.

The White Rabbit blew his horn, silencing the court. He blew it two more times, unrolled the parchment and read what was written on it:

_The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts_

_All on a summer's day_

_The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts_

_And took them quite away_

After the White Rabbit read the parchment, the king called upon the first witness to the stand, which of all the things and people Alice had met in a course of a day in Wonderland, it turned out to be the Hatter. He seemed terribly nervous for the most part, but he had brought with him March Hare and the Doormouse to the proceedings. As the King began to question the Hatter, Alice would occasionally look up to read the expressions of the other members of the royal family. The first Princess, the white one, looked to have shown the most concern for what was going on as she looked upon the Hatter and the King. The Queen of Hearts looked grumpy as ever while the other princess, the red one that Alice had been introduced to by the tweedles in the garden , looked as though she were enjoying the trial more than she should have.

It was at this moment that Alice was feeling a curious sensation. She couldn't put her finger on why she was feeling this way until it dawned on her that she was growing. Initially she was going to leave, but instead she decided to stay as long as there was room enough for her to stay.

The King and Queen continued to question the hatter about the matter, but a small voice inside the young Alice began to wonder why the King and Queen were questioning the Hatter about something he had nothing to do with. Eventually the Hatter was dismissed from the stand and made it no secret as he rushed out of the room.

"-and just take his head off outside," the Queen added to one of the officers much to Alice's apparent dismay as she looked up at the throne box. The White Princess was noticeably absent from her seat, but the other three were too busy to notice.

The cook was the next witness to be called to the stand, which did not take as long, and soon the next witness was called. As curious as the young Alice was, she was slightly shocked to have heard her own name being called from the White Rabbit's mouth.

"Alice!"

It took a few minutes before the questioning began. She had almost tripped over the table where the evidence had been placed due to her sudden (and unexplainable) growth. She was almost as tall as the Knave as she passed him on her way to the witness stand.

"What do you know about this business?" the King finally asked Alice.

"Nothing." She answered.

"Nothing whatever?"

"Nothing whatever."

"Well, according to rule forty-two, all persons that are more than a mile high must leave the court room."

Alice could feel all eyes on her at that moment, "I am not a mile high," she scoffed.

"You are," said the King.

"Nearly two miles high," the Queen added.

"But you've only added the rule, it should be number one."

That silenced the King from what Alice could tell.

"There's more evidence to come yet, please your majesty," the White Rabbit said quite nervously, "It's an unopened letter by the prisoner to somebody."

"Well, to whom is it directed?"

"It isn't directed at all…in fact, it isn't a letter but a set of verses."

"Are they in the prisoner's hand writing?" one of the jurymen asked.

"No they're not, and that is the queerest thing about it."

_Well he's innocent then _Alice thought to herself as she looked at the Knave of Hearts who seemed to have brightened at this development.

"He must have imitated somebody else's hand," said the King.

"Please your majesty! I didn't write it, and they can't prove that I did: there's no name signed at the end!" the Knave pleaded.

"If you didn't sign it, that only makes matters worse. You must have meant it for mischief, or you would have signed your name like an honest man."

It was, Alice had to admit, the first cleverest thing that the King had said so far.

"That proves his guilt, of course," said the Queen, "so off with-"

"It doesn't prove anything of the sort!" said Alice, "Why you don't even know what they're about!" Alice finally said, wearied of the constant beheading outbursts ever since she had met the woman and her copy cat daughter.

"Read it page," the King demanded.

_They told me you had been to her,_

_And mentioned me to him:_

_She gave me a good character_

_But I said I could not swim_

_He sent them word I had not gone_

_(we know it to be true)_

_If she should push the matter on_

_What would become of you?_

As the White Rabbit continued read the other verses, Alice tried to understand exactly what the verses were about. It simply made no sense. The White Rabbit concluded the verse:

_Don't let him know she liked them best_

_For this must ever be_

_A secret, kept from all the rest_

_Between yourself and me…_

"That's the most important piece of evidence we've heard yet!" the King of Hearts said quite triumphantly.

"If anyone can explain it," Alice said boldly, her confidence increasing as she was aware that she had grown even more over the Rabbit's recitation.

"I see some meaning in it, did it say –_said I could not swim_- you can't swim can you?" he asked the Knave.

The knave shook his head sadly, "I've never learned how to swim majesty…I am not fond of the waters."

It was at this point that the King of Hearts continued to argue his point about the Knave being guilty, by breaking down the verses.

Eventually, the Queen of Hearts interrupted her husband, "Sentence first, verdict afterwards: OFF WITH HIS HEAD!" she furiously let out.

"Stuff and nonsense!" Alice said loudly, "having the sentence first!"

"Hold your tongue," the Queen said completely infuriated, the red princess shrunk behind her mother, a bit fearful.

"He hasn't done a thing," Alice said pointing a finger at the Knave who seemed surprised at the girl defending him.

"OFF WITH HER HEAD!" the Queen screamed.

Alice spun around to face the Queen, "And who cares about you. You're nothing but a pack of cards," Alice said accusingly.

At this, the young Alice began to swat away at the cards that began attacking her. Sounds of chaos broke out beneath her, eyes still closed as she felt herself slipping underneath the barrage of cards that were coming after her…

-:-:-:-

With an instant gasp, Alice Kingsley's eyes snapped open, only to find herself back at her home, seventeen years older and in a moonlit bedroom, underneath a canopied bed. Her mind jumbled in confusion at the very vivid dream, or rather memory, as she reminded herself.


	2. Ghosts

**Disclaimer Applies as usual. _Special thanks to megumisakura and deathwishgirl for your reviews. Much appriciated._

* * *

****Chapter Two:** Ghosts

_"Your majesty, I hope that you bear no ill will towards me?" he asked hopeful on the checkered battlefield._

_"As for you Iloslovic Stayne, you shall also join Iracebeth in exile," she said, self aware of the faltering in her voice that hopefully no one had noticed. But he did._

_"Anything but that majesty, please have mercy!" he pleaded as the red guards came towards to restrain the Knave._

_"At least we'll have each other," Iracebeth said to the man in such a way that surprised Mirana. For a fleeting moment Mirana saw that her elder sister was capable of showing other emotions than the warped cruelty that seeped out from under her feet, but that was only short lived._

_Mirana watched in slight horror as Stayne attempted to kill Iracebeth, but his attempt was thwarted by Tarrant surprisingly at the last moment._

_"Take them away, immediately," Mirana commanded, turning away from the two._

-:-:-:-:-

Mirana could have shown Iloslovic mercy, but that was not of her decision. Truthfully, Mirana did not recognize the son of a blacksmith that she knew very well when her parents ruled over Underland. After being under the servitude (and not necessarily by choice) of her older sister, Iloslovic had been twisted into someone that Mirana could not bring back with good graces in her own court. That wasn't to say that he was scot-clean when she knew him before his time with Iracebeth, he had his rebellious streak (inherited from his father) and his _once _good natured mischievousness from his mother, Mirana's own nurse, but that was no excuse for what had happened on Horvendrush day.

For the weeks that followed (if time actually mattered) the terrible day, there would be nights where she would retreat to her bedchambers much earlier than usual. She would occasionally become withdrawn if someone would ask or give her the updates on her older sister's doings in Crims, but mostly the (then) former queen would simply cry herself to sleep.

These nights would happen on and off, her mind racked with the "what ifs" from the outcome of that fateful trial. Mirana blamed herself, although her closest confidant would tell her otherwise. She continued on in this manner until one day she could no longer react naturally. She could feign disappointment and what _Racie_ called her puppy dog eyes to fool Underlandians, but she could no longer cry naturally, she could only feel a numbing sensation through her body when she was truly on the verge of sorrow.

Eventually she was able to disassociate the root of her past guilt and regrets onto something tangible to her. A champion that would be able to right wrongs on what happened on Horvendrush day on the Frajabulous day. Now that day had passed. The champion gone. Her niece gone to follow in the footsteps of her brother, a man bound to the call of adventure and exploration, while she, the reigning queen of Underland was bound to the readings of the Oracculum and Absolutes as a single tear drop escaped her right eye, smudging the moving picture before her. It would be raining somewhere soon…

-:-:-:-:-

He was grateful that the rain had held off as he finished the last of the freshly covered plot. He had closed his one good eye as he turned his head up to the graying skies. Off in the distance he could hear the wild waves crashing against the shores of the Outlands. The rain came down steadily at first; he inhaled deeply, his breaths minutely disrupted by the beating of his heart. At the first sign of dawn that day he was determined to finish what he started under the light of the moon.

The rain began to fall much harder now as Iloslovic surveyed the area around him. His hair was closely stuck to his face as the rainwater mixed with the sweat of his tunic top from the labor he had put into his task. There was a crude wooden marker at the head of the plot.

All he wanted to do now was collapse somewhere and sleep. When he was satisfied of being drenched in the rain and washed away of Iracebeth, he left everything as it was and headed towards the glass house that loomed in the distance beyond the mangled and unkempt meadow.

As he trudged back up the hill to the glass house in the rain, he supposed he had finally gone mad as he recalled the first time he looked upon his and Iracebeth's lodgings in exile.

_"Don't be fooled" she said, finally breaking the silence of their long and uncomfortable journey, "She only sent us here so that she could feel better about herself."_

He completely dismissed Iracebeth's assessment, but she was right, as he would learn. The Outlands were notoriously known for its extreme temperatures and its fickle weather, not the ideal location for a house made completely out of glass.

When he finally approached the door to the house, he saw his own reflection. There was a maddening glare in his eye as he ducked under the doorway, his laughter echoed through the hollow structure. Reaching the makeshift living room, he collapsed to the ground in a fit of manic laughter that began to make his sides ache and hard for him to breathe. It was sometime before his aching laughter turned into hollowed sobs that lulled him off to sleep…

-:-:-:-:-

Rain was still falling when he awoke. There was no sign of the sun trying to cut through the thick rolling rainclouds. The house was very drafty now and he was still damp as he awkwardly lounged on a wooden bench that was long enough for him to rest his legs. Absentmindedly he tapped a fire poker onto the wooden floor, creating an indent in the flooring.

She had refused to eat after one bad meal of fish; she was convinced that he was trying to poison her. He would have not blamed her. After all, he tried to kill her on the Frajablous day and he was the only one of the two that knew how to cook. It seemed that she was in a quandary. The sad part though, was that he had never considered poisoning her, it was much too easy, he thought as he glared at the empty glass chair with the single crimson pillow sham in its seat across the room.

He could feel his free hand that was in the pocket of his trousers began to ball up in a fist around a piece of sheer fabric. Pulling out his balled up fist, he let his hand go slack. The strip of black fabric with red trimmings tumbled onto his lap. He glanced at it before picking it up and wrapped it loosely around his hand, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned as he barely pressed the fabric across his nose, a phantom fragrance leaving its trail. He could hold off destroying something for a little while.


	3. Meddle

**A/N:** Thank you to all the reviewers, I apologize if you did not receive an immediate response, It's been awhile since I've been on ff and I'm trying to get used to the new format so I'm still looking for the respond to a review button, but anyhow, I have a busy course load this quarter so I probably will not be updating as frequently as I would like. Other than that, reviews are appreciated and as an added bonus, another literary/film character makes a very small cameo in this chapter, can you find them? Disclaimer applies as usual. 

**

* * *

Chapter Three: **Meddle

She had another dream again as her eyes snapped open once more. Her nightgown felt uncomfortable on her as she looked up from where she was sleeping under the canopied bed.

"Are you alright Alice?" someone asked her. She recognized the voice that belonged to her sister.

"Shall I call the doctor Margaret?" another voice asked in the dimness of the room.

"No…I don't think so Lowell, I think it was just another dream," her sister responded.

Lowell, Alice's brother in-law grumbled something that she could not catch, "I'm going back to sleep Margaret."

A warm hand was placed on Alice's forehead, "Are you sure you're alright, is something bothering you?" her sister asked, keeping her voice low.

Alice shook her head no, "Nothing, just a bad dream."

"A bad dream again? This is the third one you've had so far, maybe you should talk to someone about them, it might help," her sister suggested, her words echoing her own when she confronted their Aunt Imogene, much to her disappointment, "will you do that for me…please? For mother, I don't think that you going off for so long was such a good idea," Margret said with a tinge of sadness as she moved away from Alice's bedside and left the room, ignoring the glare that Alice was boring into her back as she shut the door to Alice's bedroom.

Lifting the sheets off her bed, Alice rolled out of bed to look out of her window. It was a clear night with a few clouds lazily drifting by. Alice had been to Underland on two separate occasions, both before her first trip to China. On both occasions, no nightmares or memories, as she would remind herself, would bother her, but ever since she had the first dream about the trial, it un-nerved her to no end. He was the last, well maybe the second to last person that she wanted to ever be reminded of.

As she looked up at the moon, Alice sighed to herself as she pondered to herself if her sister was right. She would always dream of the same scenario each time she would return to London. The first time that she had returned from Underland, she came back dismissing it as a fluke, but now with it increasing in frequency and Alice began to wonder if she was guilty of something that she did not do…what that was, she hoped, was not what that small voice kept screaming the more she thought about the matter.

-:-:-:-

"Yes, my son is out visiting from Oxford, he seems to have picked up a hobby while there, what was it again Sherlock?"

"Detection father,"

The words flowed through her mind, but it did not retain any space in Alice's it as she felt herself slipping from consciousness when she knew she needed to be very alert for this meeting. She felt a light nudge at her shoulders as she was jolted back into the realm of the awake. She squirmed herself back up in the high backed chair as she looked up to see the concerned face of her mentor and the un amused glance of a potential business contact across from her. Sitting beside her was the man's son who was about the same age as she and just a peculiar as he sat there seemingly enjoying Alice's embarrassment.

"Are you alright Miss. Kingsleigh?" Lord Ascot asked Alice as the heat of embarrassment spread across her face.

"Yes, I'm quite fine, thank you for asking… I just need fresh air," she said as she was helped out of her chair by the merchant's son. She was still getting used to the new dress her mother had brought her as a homecoming gift from her travels. Her mother insisted that Margaret was right about the latest "Princess cut" dresses that young women of Alice's age were wearing, but Alice had to disagree as she shuffled past the elder Mr. Holmes, grabbing the unnecessarily long train of the sapphire hued dress.

"Excuse me for a moment," she heard Lord Ascot say as he shut the door to the study.

Alice was halfway down the hallway when Lord Ascot was able to catch up with her.

"May I be able to ask what that was about back there Miss. Kingsleigh?"

"I had drifted off, that's all."

"That's all?" he had paused to step in front of Alice to face her, a simple action that was very unusual for the man, "Alice this is the third time since you've been home that this has happened. Is there something interfering with your apprenticeship priorities…I can clearly tell that you haven't been sleeping well."

"I can assure you, nothing has been interfering with my priorities sir. I only need a little of fresh air and I shall be as good as day when I return."

"Five minutes, but we can't keep Mr. Holmes waiting," he said almost hesitantly.

"Thank you!" she said with a grateful smile.

-:-:-:-

Visiting the old familiar oak tree seemed to be a very tempting idea as Alice kept to the outskirts of the Ascot's hedge maze. There had to have been a reason why she kept dreaming of her childhood frequently. She understood that Underland was as just as real of a place as her world was (though there moments she wished it were the other way around as far a society was concerned) but she refused to believe that she actually stood up for that…that…

"Knave?" he finished for her, leaning casually against a wall of the hedge maze ahead of her, taking a bite out of a blue colored apple. He was still dressed as she had seen him last on the battlefield.

Alice quickly shook him from her mind, to find herself alone once more, her mind playing tricks on her. She continued her short walk, nearing an ivy infested gazebo that seemed to be neglected by the Ascot's groundskeepers. Her mind was now competing with itself as a myriad of thoughts came bubbling forth as she continued to walk further away from the Manor. She was aware that she was not checking her time, ignoring the weight of her father's fob watch in her hand.

She supposed her mentor was correct in his observation about her lack of sleep, though she would not have openly acknowledged it. At twenty three and already defying what was expected of her, she did not want to speak of her new set of dreams, at least not with anyone from London. She stopped walking for a moment. She looked up from the skies above her, searching for something, but not sure what it was that she was searching for. It was an old feeling that was very comforting to her as she closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling the air around her quite deeply. A gentle breeze grazed her temple as Alice found it suddenly chilly.

Upon opening her eyes, Alice stumbled backwards out of shock as her head connected with something very soft and warm and very much alive.

"Ouch! Can't you watch where you're going," the thing said very haughtily, squirming away from underneath Alice's head, "I say…the nerve of y-Alice? _You're…you're…you're on time_."

Alice quickly sat up, her back towards whom she remembered to be the white rabbit. She slowly scanned the area in front of her, her mind trying to connect with the reality that she was somehow in Underland without any bodily harm or movement. Her hair was still pinned up loosely but her dress had changed into something quite odd, but much less restricting…something that she could actually romp around in, "A romper." She said, the word escaped quietly from her lips.

"Ahem," McTwisp loudly cleared his throat, forcing Alice to look over her shoulder to face the rabbit, "Now that you're here, the queen wishes for you to join her for tea at Mamoreal."

"Tea?"

"Yes. I was instructed with orders to meet you here at this exact place and exact time and moment, though I rather hoped you weren't planning to crush me."

"But how?'

"That is what her majesty wishes to speak to you about," McTwisp finished for her as a tea pot shaped carriage came to a complete stop directly behind the white rabbit.


End file.
